


Still A Better Love Story Than Twilight

by nayanroo



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, long suffering bro nikandros, mentions of past Damen/Jokaste, suspicious jord, vague and brief mentions of car accidents, vague and brief mentions of past child sexual abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 04:24:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8953576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nayanroo/pseuds/nayanroo
Summary: [Damen leaned on his elbows over his pile of books, looking directly into the front camera of his phone.  “To the guy in the lab, the blond guy, I am seriously in love with you right now.  Eight-thirty, come find me and I’ll buy you a drink.”]
In which Laurent is a future psychiatrist racing to finish up a semester-long lab assignment before finals, Damen is a pre-law student who no longer cares about his final paper, and Snapchat is the new Tinder.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For @andrewnminyard/Len... thank you for being the reason for my first Captive Prince fanfic. I hope you like it!
> 
> Also, this fic was directly inspired (and in some cases, dialog was lifted from things said in) a romantic connection that happened over Snapchat at UW Madison that you can watch [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=90C-00OTNTI&t=16s). Watching this before reading the fic is not required but it's pretty cute imo, so!

“…and as a reminder – because the NMR lab has been _suspiciously_ quiet – your unknowns and _all_ associated paperwork are due in lab next week. I know it’s the week before finals, but this was assigned a month ago and you’ve had plenty of time to work on it. Even if you believe you’ve sufficiently characterized your unknown enough for identification, I expect you to show you’ve done all the possible tests. After all, you might find something surprising. So get to it!”

There was a chorus of grumbling as the class rose from their seats and started filtering out of the lecture hall. Shutting down his iPad, Laurent took a moment to run his hands over his face. He’d been meaning to get into the lab, but one of his other classes had an essay due next week as well, and all his finals were fast approaching, and he’d gotten interviews with medical schools lined up. He’d been doing so _well_ in organic chem so far that he hadn’t paid it much mind. But the unknown project counted for a _lot_ of the lab grade, which was fully half the grade for this entire course…

Sighing, he packed up and made his way toward the food court while texting Jord. His friend – his _only friend_ \- had invited him to marathon the new season of _Black Mirror_ on Netflix over the weekend, but there was no way Laurent was going to be able to leave the lab, and honestly, he’d miss the commiserating they were going to do over a couple of beers. Well, beer for Jord. Laurent had sworn off alcohol before he could even legally drink, not that it mattered now, though… what kind of idiot left a third of the lab work of an important class project to four days before its due date?

_That_ started his thoughts on a dark spiral, and when Jord found him later, he was moodily picking at the slightly wilted lettuce in his salad and scowling. His friend put his backpack down hard enough to make Laurent jump.

“You’re thinking again,” he said. Jord lived in a sort of awe of Laurent – he was a psychology major, and looked upon Laurent juggling psychology and molecular biology classes as a kind of Herculean feat of the mind – but he’d also proven to be extremely perceptive. Uncomfortably so, sometimes.

“I’m going to be in school for the next six years _at least_ ,” Laurent replied. “Thinking is what I should be doing.”

“And while you’re getting that psychiatry thing going, it’s _fine._ But I know the face you were making just now, Laurent. I know when you’re thinking about _him._ ”

“Jord…”

“And I know you don’t like to be reminded of what happened, but you can’t pretend it doesn’t follow you. I just, it’s getting close to finals, and I know how you are and I don’t want you to dwell on—“

“ _Jord!_ ”

Finally the other man seemed to see how Laurent’s hands had curled into fists, how the ends of his hair shook, and sat back. “Look, I’m sorry. I just worry about you, especially when you’ll be spending so much time cooped up in the ochem lab. That can’t be healthy.”

“I’m sure I won’t be alone.”

Jord lit up. “I can keep you company!”

“No, I really need to focus—“

“What, you think just because I have one major that I’m not as busy as you are right now? I’ve got a paper to write, and I think a chem lab will be the perfect, distraction-free environment.”

“Jord,” Laurent repeated, exasperated, but it was clear the idea had taken root and wasn’t going to be ripped out anytime soon. “Fine. But just… don’t get in anyone’s way.”

“C’mon, Laurent.” Jord sat back, spreading his hands. “It’ll be fun.”

He went to the rest of his classes that day and did his best to get his mind out of its dark hole. The therapy had taught him how to shut down destructive thinking, but it was hard to quiet that one voice in his mind, that one familiar voice, telling him that he was worthless without his _family_ and he’d never amount to anything. By the time he met up with Jord again, the other weighed down by books and an expanding file of academic papers to reference, Laurent was feeling slightly brittle but felt he might actually have it under control, as long as nothing cropped up that would shake his focus. Jord gave him a worried look, but settled at Laurent’s lab table without complaint and got to work.

After a few more simple tests, Laurent took some of his unknown off to the nuclear magnetic resonance spectrometer. As he was setting up the machine, Jord wandered in, scrubbing at his eyes.

“Down for the count already?”

Jord shook his head, leaning on the lab bench. “Nah, just lots of dry reading.” He tapped a few things on his phone, held it up. “Smile, you’re going on Snapchat.”

“Jord, no—“

Ignoring Laurent’s glare as he took his sample off to load the spectrometer, Jord put his thumb down on the icon to record. “This is my friend, the future psychiatrist, doing some pretty damn serious science.” He made a gesture at Laurent with his other hand, indicating he should say something. 

Sighing, Laurent rolled his eyes as he carefully deposited a tiny aliquot of material into the NMR spectrometer. “Hello, I’m busy, this is _not_ what I want to do on a Friday evening. Goodbye.”

Jord lowered his phone and tapped a few things. “You’re no fun sometimes, Laurent.”

“I’m _busy._ And you know how I feel about Snapchat.”

“I don’t know, I think you just need to give it a try. Maybe get an incentive.”

Laurent rolled his eyes and went back to the computer to start his run. “There is _nothing_ , on this planet or any other planet, that could get me to use Snapchat as much as you do.”

*

“Hey. _Hey!_ ”

Damen started, dropping the highlighter that had been dangling precariously from his fingers onto the book he’d been reading – trying to read – staring blankly at for the last half an hour. It made a mark, and he uselessly tried to scrub it away as he sat up.

“You okay?” Nikandros asked him, concerned. They’d been friends since they were roommates back in freshman year, and Nik had even taken a history minor after listening to Damen rave about some of his classes for a couple years. They were both planning to go into law, had studied for the LSAT together. Luckily the law program at their college had very much wanted them both to stay, and Damen liked it here, close to the coast with warm weather. It reminded him of home, which was the only place he truly wanted to go. His girlfriend had waited until the week before the fall break to break up with him. Who _did_ that?

“m’fine. Just too much to do.” Damen sighed, pulling up his paper to see what he’d managed to write so far and groaned. “ _Way_ too much. I think I’ve gone backwards.”

“I don’t think it’s that bad…”

As Nikandros turned Damen’s laptop around to read over what he’d written so far, Damen dragged his phone over, flipping through it and trying to get his brain back in gear.

Purely by chance, he hit on Snapchat.

Purely by chance, he went to see what Snaps had been added to the school’s Story.

And a few moments later, he grabbed Nikandros and quickly tapped through Snaps in the story until he got to the one that had caught his attention. “Look. _Look._ ”

They watched the snap – one student talking off-camera while recording another student who was, in Damen’s estimation, one of the most attractive men he’d ever seen.

“Oh great,” Nikandros muttered, watching the blond man setting up some sort of scientific equipment, giving the recorder a very dark look as he did. “Another smart blond. C’mon, Damen, we’ve got to get this done—“

“ _Look_ at him.” Damen replayed the Snap. 

“I’ve seen him. He looks like the next ex-boyfriend for you.”

“ _Nikandros._ ”

“What? I’m not _wrong._ Damen, you fall in love like they’re the last person you’ll ever be with, and every time I’ve seen you get your heart broken.”

“So? Why does that mean I need to stop?”

“It doesn’t, just…” Nikandros sighed. “I just need you to stop and think before—wait, what are you doing?”

Damen leaned on his elbows over his pile of books, looking directly into the front camera of his phone. “To the guy in the lab, the blond guy, I am seriously in love with you right now. Eight-thirty, come find me and I’ll buy you a drink.”

He put the West Library filter on the Snap and posted it to the school story, grinning as he set his phone down. Nikandros was staring at him incredulously.

“It’s incredible,” he said at last, scrubbing at his eyes. “It’s like you just charge right in. Do you even remember what happened with Jokaste? You were _devastated_ , Damen. Do you want to put that on this new guy? If he even sees this and takes you up on it?”

“I just know what I like, and who I like.” With renewed energy, Damen flipped through the book to the next place he’d tabbed an interesting passage. “Let’s get back to work.”

“You don’t even know if he’ll see it!”

“I know. I’ve got a good feeling about this.” Damen grinned. “You’ll see.”

*

Jord had retreated to the lab, leaving Laurent alone to babysit another one of the analytical tests the lab report required. Since many students had been smart and had finished this part of their unknowns early, Laurent was alone. He liked that, though – despite being something of a party _hoster,_ his true preferences were tucked up somewhere with a book or his studies. Here, amidst the gently thrumming equipment, he felt rather peaceful.

Perhaps it was because of this peaceful feeling that he decided, of his own volition, to open the little-used Snapchat app on his phone and poke at it. He sometimes sent Snaps to Jord, who was one of two other users he had on this thing, but other than that…

_Oh,_ he thought, swiping over to the Stories page. _The college has a Story._

Most of them were banal—dimly lit party scenes, exhausted and delirious students cramming for finals—then there was the one Jord had taken of him, and then…

“ _…I am seriously in love with you right now,_ ” the man said, his teeth very white in his tanned, olive-skinned face. He had a nice smile, and eyes that, though bloodshot by (probably) too many hours of studying and staring at a screen, seemed to gleam with good humor.

He was entirely too attractive, and though Laurent’s knee-jerk instinct was to reject, to hide, to isolate himself so he’d never be hurt again, he couldn’t help but replay the story just so he could see this man with the smile and the eyes. That was how Jord found him fifteen minutes later, staring at the Snap (he’d figured out how to download it onto his phone, because replaying the entire story seemed a little much) with a strained expression.

“What is it—wait, is that Snapchat? Did you actually voluntarily open Snapchat?”

“Look,” Laurent said, and played the Snap over.

“ _To the guy in the lab, the blond guy, I am seriously in love with you right now…_ ”

They watched it, and when it finished Laurent looked over at his friend. “So? What do I do? It’s well past eight thirty now…”

“Well,” Jord said slowly, “You could reply…”

“How?”

“I mean, are you sure you want to? You don’t know this guy. Maybe he’s not serious.”

Laurent paused, considering this. Hyperbole was certainly an option – he failed to see how anyone could say they loved him, though it was true that this West Library man didn’t know him at all yet and could certainly change his opinion if they ever met – but something in the stranger’s face told Laurent that he was given more to honesty.

“Well, I should at least reply,” he said. When Jord looked pained, Laurent spread his hands. “What? You said before that you want me to get out, to move on, not to dwell on the past.”

“I don’t know if Snapchat is the best venue…”

“Well, I’m certainly not making a Tinder account…” Laurent pulled up the camera and paused, thumb hovering over the button. “What do I say?”

*

Damen had been checking his phone obsessively since eight-thirty, and even though Nikandros had looked superior once the appointed time had come and gone and nobody either appeared or sent any kind of Snapchat message back, he hadn’t given up. He did have a good feeling about this, and Nikandros would just have to deal with it.

At last, nearly an hour and a half later, he saw a new Snap go through on the school’s story. It was the blond man, hair still pulled back in a ponytail at the nape of his neck and his blue eyes seeming brighter behind the safety glasses he wore. He was nervous—something about the slight fidget before he started talking. But he looked directly into the camera, directly at Damen, spoke to him.

“ _Hello, West Library man. I missed your Snap – I’m stuck in the lab. But if it’s fate, I suppose you’ll come find me, won’t you?_ ”

The Snap ended, and Damen’s face split into a huge grin. The blond man’s eyes were… hard to read, especially behind the safety goggles. But there was a hint of a challenge there, and it sparked something in his gut.

“See!” he crowed—quietly—to Nikandros. “I told you he’d reply.”

“Hours late, and insisting you come to him instead.”

“He’s a scientist. He’s busy.”

“How do you _know?_ ” but Nikandros had put down his pen and sighed. “You aren’t going to give up, are you?”

“Not on your life.”

Nikandros, an attitude of long-suffering on his face, picked up his own phone. “Hey,” he said after a moment. “Did you see the other Snaps?”

“What other Snaps?”

“The ones without your mystery scientist in them.”

Their heads together, they went back through the Story on Damen’s phone. There were their Snaps, of course, but then there were a few Snaps interspersed with them.

“ _Scientist man,_ ” one said, a well-dressed young woman said, clearly walking home from her job. “ _I am holding my breath to see if you go find the mystery West Library man. Do you understand?_ ”

Another one featured two men—Damen recognized one of them, a former roommate and fine arts major named Erasmus, and the other his fiance. “ _Both of us have horror stories from our science classes,_ ” Erasmus said. His fiance continued, “ _But we’re rooting for you, scientist man and West Library dude._ ”

The next one showed two women out with a bunch of friends, this one with a geofilter that made Damen’s grin widen - _help scientist man find West Library man!_

Damen would have gotten up right there and torn through every lab building on the campus had Nikandros not reminded him that the paper was due Monday and they needed to get through a significant portion of it tonight if they wanted to sleep at all Sunday night. So he opened Snapchat, heart beginning to pound.

*

“ _Scientist,_ ” the strange man with the captivating eyes said, staring up at Laurent from the phone screen, “ _I missed your Snap too. Writing a paper. But if it’s fate, maybe we’ll meet at Charls’ later?_ ”

The mystery man had used the new geofilter that Jord had shown him, but none of it obscured his face. Something, some earnestness in the man’s face tugged at a long-forgotten place in Laurent’s chest.

He printed off the GCMS readouts and took them back to the lab table that Jord was sitting at, his research materials piled up around him and his phone in his hand. “I’m almost done,” he said. “And when I am, I… I think I want to go meet this guy. If we can find him.”

“Are you sure?” Jord looked up, thumb hovering over something on his phone. “I mean, really sure?”

Taking a deep breath, Laurent nodded, stacking up his printouts. “I am. Something… it seems right.”

“You’re not the only one to think so.” Jord showed him the latest snap, another man with olive skin but a stockier build, saying that _science man would be a fool if he didn’t go find my friend, the mystery West Library man._ And another one, from a woman saying that she was refreshing her Snapchat every minute to see what was going on.

He had to admit, a large part of him was made uncomfortable by all the attention. He wasn’t used to it, he didn’t want it – at least, not about this – but, for this man with the face that said he’d never lie to someone he loved, Laurent would brave all of that. “Well, then clearly it should turn out well, yes?”

He sighed, looking at his checklist of tasks. One more analysis to go. 

Laurent opened his app and hit the record button.

*

“ _Thank you everyone for the Snaps… this is totally going on my Myspace page. West Library man, I’m nearly done here, but when I am I will join you at Charls’._ ”

Damen couldn’t sit still after that, and at last even Nikandros had to admit defeat.

“You want to go?” he asked, throwing up his hands and then shoving books into his backpack. “Fine, okay, let’s go.”

*

Laurent hated bars. _Hated_ them. 

It wasn’t so much the atmosphere – he didn’t mind people as long as they were aware that they were both beneath him and not to interact with him too much – but the main focus of the place was alcohol, and anytime he thought about beer he also thought of the couch in the sitting room, his parents taken off to the funeral home, and his uncle’s hands…

Shuddering, Laurent took a gulp of his soda. Once the bartender had seen him, she’d lit up and said that all his drinks – and all the drinks of the mystery West Library man, if he showed – would be on the house. So now he leaned on a tall table with Jord, anxiously watching Snapchat. Along with half the campus, it seemed, based on the stressed and encouraging Snaps coming through the story.

“Look,” Jord said. The geofilter had changed to “Mystery Man Spotted At Charls’!” and a moment later, a Snap came through with a very familiar face and a not-so-familiar one.

“ _Scientist,_ ” the man said. “ _I’m here, I’m going to come find you._ ”

Immediately more Snaps began to play through, people waiting anxiously to see what would happen, but Laurent tucked his phone in his pocket. He couldn’t watch anymore, he could barely drink his soda, his stomach was in knots.

“Hey,” Jord said. Even in the dim light and the noise of the bar, he could see that his friend had a concerned expression. “It’ll be okay.”

Laurent didn’t respond – couldn’t respond. Could only hold his drink in shaking fingers and scan the crowd, looking for a kind face with bright eyes, and a smile that had warmed a part of him he’d thought dead. It was Jord who filmed him saying that he was here, waiting. 

Hoping.

*

Damen shrugged off his coat and handed it to the girl at coat check, who took out her phone and waved it at him. “He’s here!” she shouted over the music. “He’s here! Scientist is here!”

Grinning triumphantly over his shoulder at Nikandros, who had almost literally put money on Scientist not being at the bar, Damen made his way to the bar amid further instructions. He could barely hold his glass, the rum and coke suddenly seeming like a terrible, terrible idea.

“Over there!” someone shouted, pointing, and after a sip to bolster him and calm his suddenly twanging nerves, Damen made his way toward a small raised niche, and the cluster of people inside. He could see a bright blond head, slim shoulders hunched over one of the tall tables there. One of the men was looking at his phone, but the other clutched a glass, knuckles white as he stared into it.

_He’s just as nervous as I am,_ Damen thought. The last few feet seemed like a gulf.

The man on his phone looked up, nudged the hand of the blond man – the scientist, his scientist, _Damen’s_ scientist. The blond man turned, and Damen felt something burst in his chest to release light and warmth.

The blond man smiled, and it was a glorious thing, despite the tension. “You came, mystery man,” he said.

Damen stopped before taking the step up so they were eye to eye. “Did you think I wasn’t going to?”

“Honestly? I wasn’t sure.” He paused, looking torn, and that was all the cue Damen needed to step up, reach in, to pull this man to him.

*

It felt good.

Laurent was not much for physical touching. It had been different, when his parents and his brother were alive, before the car crash and the funerals and… everything, but now he tolerated handshakes and little more. But this embrace, this sudden enveloping of strong arms? It felt… better. Right, not twisted. Like he belonged right where he was.

They stayed like that for a minute. Laurent was dimly aware of a crowd of people around them, their phones out, but he resolved that his own phone would stay in his pocket for now and he’d watch the Snaps later. Possibly with this man. If it worked out.

Mystery Man seemed to let go reluctantly, and not too far. His hand stayed at Laurent’s elbow, and Jord tilted his head toward a hastily-vacated booth. The former occupants grinned as they passed. The Mystery Man glanced back toward the friend he’d come with before threading through the tables and sliding into one side of the booth.

“Hopefully Nikandros can get everyone to clear off. As much fun as the attention has been all night, I don’t usually do first dates with an audience.”

“Is that what this is?” Laurent asked, sitting gingerly in the booth. “A date?”

Something in the Mystery Man’s face seemed worried for a second, as though he’d had similar doubts to Laurent’s own. “If you want it to be,” he said carefully. “Maybe I was a little too forward. I’m sorry, I just… something about you was different, when I saw you in that first Snap. And I want to get to know you. So.”

Laurent shoved his uncle’s whispers away and met those eyes at last. He hadn’t been able to until now, afraid that some quality had been added by the Snapchat filters and the anticipation… but no, they were just as warm, just as open as ever. And right now, they were a little worried. But it was… Laurent studied them, studied the gold and honey facets. It was concern for _him_ , he realized. This stranger was worried that Laurent wasn’t comfortable.

“I’d like to get to know you, too. I guess… starting with your name?”

“Oh. Right. I’m Damianos, but everyone just calls me Damen.”

“Laurent.” He smiled, just a little. “But ‘scientist’ is also something I answer to.”

“I like your name more. Laurent,” and the way he said it made Laurent’s belly tighten. “I like it.”

They talked a little bit more – and a little more still after Jord and Nikandros had given up their vigil and gone off – but a while later Damen reached across the table, hesitated – his eyes met Laurent’s, like he was asking for permission – and when Laurent glanced down, Damen took his hand, lacing their fingers.

“It’s hard to talk in here, and I know an ice cream place that’s still open—“

“Scoops? I love that place.”

“Do you wanna go?”

“Could we?”

Amid cheers, they left Charls’ and headed up the street, hand in hand. Damen’s hands were warm, large, calloused like he’d spent his life doing things like climbing rocks and punching people. Laurent decided he liked them. 

“Look,” Damen said quietly, when the noise of the bar row had faded somewhat. “I know it’s easy to get wrapped up. I know there was probably a lot of pressure from seeing all those Snaps. And I… Laurent, I’m gonna be honest—“

“Please be honest with me—“ it came out sounding more soft and plaintive than Laurent had intended, so he shut his mouth quickly and suffered through it. Damen’s hand tightened on his just slightly.

“I really like you, Laurent. Really. You’re attractive, which got me first, but you talk about your classes and your future with such… I don’t know. For a history major, a future lawyer, I’m not always the best with words. But it makes me excited about things I don’t know anything about. And… if you’re willing to give me a chance, I’d… I would really like it if you did.”

Laurent found it hard to talk, hard to breathe. For such a big man with such a huge personality to match, there was such a capacity for gentleness, and the way Damen talked, like he’d just given Laurent his heart and said _take this, it’s yours if you want it_ made Laurent worry that he’d never be able to offer a gift of equal, untarnished value.

“I want you to give me a chance too,” he said at last. “I’m not… all science and intelligence. I’m not all _good._ ”

Damen stopped and looked at him like he’d just spouted nonsense. “Do you think that’ll deter me?” he asked. “Because it won’t. I’m not perfect either, Laurent. Whatever’s happened to you, whatever you’ve done or think you’ve done, it’s part of you. And I’m willing to accept _all_ of you, if you’ll let me. What do you think?”

“I think…” Laurent took a breath, then another. “I think, if I gave you my heart, Mystery Man, you would be gentle with it.”

Damen grinned at him, and in the darkness, in this heady rush, it was easy for Laurent to throw all caution to the wind and stretch up to very lightly, very gently, kiss him. Damen took his other hand and they stood there a minute, on the sidewalk half a block from Scoops, kissing in the dark.

“I think my throat hurts from all the shouting we did back in the bar,” Laurent said when he’d pulled away, the taste of Damen still on his tongue. 

“Good thing I’m buying you ice cream then.” Damen smiled. “Maybe it’ll make you want a second date with me.”

“Just maybe,” Laurent murmured, and smiled back.


End file.
